


Touch

by Irving-Braxiatel (Elycia7)



Category: Gallifrey (Big Finish Audio)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Multi, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-23
Updated: 2015-02-23
Packaged: 2018-03-14 19:36:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3423107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elycia7/pseuds/Irving-Braxiatel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sensual Attraction; the attraction one feels to engage in sensual, usually tactile, forms of affection and/or intimacy with someone. Three different views on President Romana inspired by the prompt word ‘touch.’</p>
            </blockquote>





	Touch

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks go out to tumblr users Fatalcookies, Mystkamm, and Loup-Malin for help with betaing.

**Braxiatel**

Most other men would probably have given up in a similar situation. But Braxiatel was not most other men, in the same way that Romana was definitely not most other women. He was, of course, aware that his pursuits would most likely never bear fruit. But that was certainly not going to stop him.

Not always, but sometimes, he would allow himself to be a little more bold in his advances. The difference would be barely noticeable to anyone but the two of them. His hands would linger just a split second longer when handing something over. He would lean just a little closer when reading something over her shoulder. His compliments of her would become just a little more frequent, and a little more obvious.

Romana would ignore it at first, until she deemed that it had became just a little too much. This would always result in remarks such as, ‘Brax, I don’t have all day, I do need those documents now, if you would be so kind’ or ‘Cardinal, I don’t much appreciate having you breathing down my neck like that. Do step a little back’ or simply ‘don’t push it, Braxiatel.’

And in the end, he wondered if these little games and machinations of his were all worth it. Standing in a stasis chamber after trapping the past and present aspects of Pandora in his mind, he asked to talk to Romana alone. There was a glass wall separating them, making any sort of touch impossible even if it had been safe. But for a second, before she spoke, he saw something. Had he not known Romana so well, he might not even have noticed. Her hand moved, barely noticeable, towards him.

Yes, he thought: for Romana, it was and would be worth it.

 

**Leela**

After her arrival, it did not take long for Leela to realise that touch was not a common thing on Gallifrey. The Time Lords did not like physical contact for some reason, and Andred was always the only one who appreciated her touch.

But now, Andred was gone. Dead.

Without him this world was cold and foreign, and she felt lonely. She had to constantly remind herself to keep a distance. To go against everything that she had grown up with. Even in the presence of her friends.

During the civil war it was easy to forget about this ever-present loneliness, with the adrenaline pumping through her body, her skin warmed by the explosions she was setting off for Romana.

Until one day it had gone terribly wrong and a percussion bomb had robbed her of her sight and almost killed Narvin.

But even now her senses were sharp. Her blindness did not stop her from feeling Annos and Hallan’s gazes of pity, or from hearing Romana say that she was ‘helpless.’

And she was angry. Angry at this world for being so different and so unlike her own. Angry at Andred for deceiving her. Angry at Narvin for getting hurt. Angry at Romana for what she had said.

And most of all, angry at herself for not knowing what to do next.

But later that day when they were running, fleeing from Pandora’s guards and K9’s fire, for the first time since Andred had died she knew her place in this world again.

“Please take my hand, Leela,” Romana said.

And she did.

 

**Narvin**

The urge to touch was rare but not foreign to Narvin. The urge for someone else to touch him, however, was.

But lying on the floor of a vampire nest on a parallel Gallifrey that was nothing like their own, he suddenly wants nothing more than to be close to Romana.

And to his luck, if you can call it that, the prospect of death without regeneration is apparently enough to sway even the most stubborn of Time Ladies. 

And as they wait for the portal to come around and return them to the axis, he tried everything he could think of to distract himself. There should have been nothing sensual about the feeling of Romana’s hand pressing a cloth to his wounded head to slow down the bleeding. She was trying to save his life, that was all. Besides, she was his president, and he ought not to forget that.

But after they had returned to the axis and she was dressing his wound in gauze, he still hadn’t been able to shake that feeling. But the words ‘I am the destroyer of worlds’ were still echoing in his ears and he knew that she didn’t need anything more to worry about, let alone these feelings he had for her – whatever they were.

But he knew what it was like to crave someone’s touch now, and although he didn’t know what he must have looked like, he imagined that it was somewhat like Romana did in that moment. Maybe it wasn’t his touch she wanted, maybe it was no one’s touch in particular.

He reached out, carefully but without hesitation, and rested his hand on top of hers. Romana wasn’t quite smiling, but something did change in her face. He may not have known where they were going or what was to happen to them, but this was a start, he thought.


End file.
